A Custom Design
by Primsong
Summary: Bessie is missing! Why, and what will become of her? Is the fate of Britain involved? Of course. Episode 3 of "A Custom Vehicle." Third Doctor with Jo Grant, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Benton, Yates and the trusty men of UNIT.
1. Chapter 1

**A Custom Design**

A/N: This is third in a series, the previous events may be found in episodes "A Custom Vehicle" and "A Custom Order," all of which feature the Third Doctor with Jo Grant, the Brigadier and UNIT. Of course the BBC owns Doctor Who, I just enjoy playing with it.

--

**14.**

Beneath a September sky that threatened rain, Corsham's mostly-forgotten Cold War

era 'city' of tunnels was quiet. The hidden 120-plus acre maze of roads and rooms beneath the surface had recently been the focus of an alien plan to conquer Britain by means of an old weapon from earlier days, the War Machines, but now no sign of the aliens remained.

Within the tunnels and nearby quarry, UNIT's men were fully engaged in hauling the fallen Machines back underground or negotiating what would become of the remaining tank-like constructs.

Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart had promised that UNIT would personally oversee their destruction, lest they be misused against mankind once again, but contemplating the red tape involved was something that made him more battle-weary than any actual battle could. Still, he did what needed to be done because someone had to do it, and what's more, someone had to do it right.

Surfacing from another long phone conversation with the upper echelons of authority regarding the planned destruction of uncounted numbers of 'custom ordered' robotic machines, he found his white-haired scientific advisor had not been nearly as helpful as he had hoped. He'd apparently done nothing about those Machines at all.

In fact, ever since they'd emerged from the tunnels to find his yellow Edwardian roadster had gone missing, the Doctor had been preoccupied with little else. It was most irksome.

The only thing that held his interest was the discovery in the far tunnels of some mostly-cremated remains. He'd quickly identified them as an alien man, one of those UNIT had encountered in Chippenham only a little over a month previous, and directed them to be sure the remains were more properly cremated and not kept for anyone's 'morbid curiosity.' The man had apparently died in the backwash from the alien ship lifting off.

"They left him behind," the Doctor noted. "I expected as much, but not that he would try to run after them before they lifted off. He didn't seem a fool. I wonder if he was trying to stop them."

"What makes you think he was running after them?" the Brigadier asked.

"Because he'd just left the quarry. And Jo and I saw him not long before that liftoff with a bag of tools. He had something to do with my car."

The Brigadier almost rolled his eyes but stopped himself. "Why would an alien, and one about to be left behind by his lift from the planet, be helping someone in a common car theft?"

"Bessie is hardly common." The Doctor snapped. "He was a mercenary businessman, Brigadier; whomever he was helping, it was as a business deal you can be sure of it. Someone was willing to pay for her."

The Brigadier sighed, directed two men to bag up the body and kept walking.

--

As they came back up out of the tunnels, the overcast sky stopped just threatening rain and settled down into earnestly providing it.

"Doctor! Brigadier!" Jo Grant waved to them from the steps at the end of the tunnel. "I was wondering where you'd got to. I'm off!"

"Off?" asked the Doctor.

"My purse was in your car!" she clarified as they climbed to meet her. "My keys were in it. Mike's arranged for a locksmith to meet me at my flat, so I can get the locks changed. Oh, and my pass was in there too."

"Good thinking, Captain Yates," the Brigadier said, nodding approval to the young man who waited by a covered jeep. "Go on, and remember to adjust that vehicle to the new frequencies. Don't worry about your pass, Miss Grant; we'll issue you a temporary." Jo waved, Mike Yates saluted and the little jeep pulled away. The Brigadier had already changed UNIT's communications lest the radio in the lost roadster be used to listen in on them.

The Doctor watched the jeep bounce its way up the earthen ramp that led from the quarry, then looked up at the sky. "Even my umbrella is gone," he said morosely.

"You hardly ever used it anyway," the Brigadier noted, walking out into the rain with him.

"Jo did," he said, refusing to have his right to grumble compromised. They made their way across the rapidly-becoming-muddy lot to a small tent the men had erected next to the trucks.

"Sir!" Sergeant Benton hailed, returning from where he and his men had been searching the area surrounding the quarry.

"Any luck, Sergeant?"

"Some," he said, dashing rain from his beret and pulling it back on. "We found fresh tracks from a large lorry. Doesn't match any of our rigs. Probably your car-thieves just loaded her up. Could be a chop-shop operation."

"Chop shop?" the Doctor said, turning to him sharply.

"Nefariously common practice in which stolen vehicles are sold for their parts," the Brigadier supplied.

"Parts?" the Doctor looked scandalized.

Benton shrugged apologetically as their advisor smacked the tent pole hard enough to make them both wonder if it would come down on them all. "Those grubivorous hegstaggets! - how dare they even consider taking apart my car!"

"At least it can be put back together again," the Brigadier said dryly, wondering if he dare ask what a hegstagget was and deciding against. "Do mind the tent, if you please?"

The Doctor didn't reply, but he did take his hands from the tentpole and jammed them into his pockets instead. Several minutes passed as the Brigadier answered various questions, handed out orders and finally sat down by a makeshift table to look over a map of Corsham's underground. The Doctor was still standing, considering the dripping sky.

"Buck up, Doc," Benton said from where he was prying open a stubborn thermos. "We'll find your car. Coffee?"

"Who would want it?" the Brigadier mused.

"The car or the coffee?" Benton asked.

"Oh, the car. Yes, thank you Sergeant. We need to think this through; these tunnel aliens of yours, perhaps?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, they've gone, at least for now. They were focused on their own machines with a limited and rather narrow attack plan anyway. And yes, I'll take some of that, with sugar if you don't mind."

The Brigadier looked out at the rain. "Could another government be involved?"

"Now speaking of governments," the Doctor noted. "That ginger chap, the one you found in the tunnel - his type were obviously familiar with the British governmental bureaucracy."

"Obviously."

"He was even dressed for the part. And he had my screwdriver, so we know he came into the quarry, possibly about the time Bessie was taken. I expect he was why they were even able to take her."

"What do you mean?" The Brigadier held out a hand and Benton put a steaming cup into it.

"My car has an anti-thievery force-field on it, Brigadier. Jo was able to disengage it to make her call because she knew how. She says she re-engaged it when she left. We have no reason to disbelieve her competence or memory, which means he had to know how to circumvent it."

"But whoever it was still left him behind," the Sergeant pointed out, pouring another cup from the thermos and reaching for the little box of sugar-cubes they'd brought.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. That's a little mystery as well, isn't it?"

"No honor among thieves?" the Brigadier suggested.

"That chap was more akin to a shady businessman than a thief, as unorthodox as his methods were. Bessie doesn't appear to be anything unusual to anyone, normally."

"She does stand out a bit," Benton ventured cautiously.

"Only because she's not one of those rubbish tin boxes on wheels they make now; an old car is not normally worth the risk of contracting with crooked governmental agents. They could steal a vintage car from any car collector if that was their aim. But recently I did have to make a bit of display with that extended force-field over in Chippenham."

"It was hard to miss," Benton agreed, handing the Doctor his cup. "Big shining bubble and," he waved his fingers in the air in mimicry of the electric arcing. "Zzzt, zzt and all that."

The Doctor took the cup with a nod and blew on it. "And our late, unmourned ginger friend was very likely there to witness it. Presuming he was already well-ensconced in the underworld of fraudulent government claims, he may have seen it as an opportunity to hand that technology off to someone."

"Presumably for a good price," the Brigadier said.

"Of course."

Benton poured a little coffee for himself. "But they already had a force-field themselves, didn't they? They had a jolly big one on that house. Why wouldn't they just sell their own?"

"What I rigged up on Bessie was quite simplistic in comparison to theirs, Sergeant. A child's toy, but feasible with resources found here and now, at least for the most part. Their own would require technology much too complex for anyone here to be able to use it. Nor would it be easily moved to another locale. They wouldn't offer it, no, what they must have had was a customer willing to pay for a small, portable one. That had to be it."

Lethbridge-Stewart drained half his cup. "But why did they need one?"

"I expect we'll find that out - whenever we find them, Brigadier."

--

Rumbling, the lorry pulled into the warehouse, its brakes squeaking as it rolled to a stop. The doors were swung shut behind it and locked. Five men jumped down from the back and the cab as a beefy man with a red face came from the office area to meet them.

He looked them over briefly. "Did you get it, then?"

"Not a problem, Guv'ner!"

He scanned the faces as he came around the back of the truck. "Blick! Where's Mr. Jones?"

The man from the back looked at the others. "Who? Don't know a Jones," he said.

"Look, who uses their real name around here you idiot? You? Me? He's that red-haired chap, the government one who tipped us."

"Cor, him! He turned on us once we had the thing loaded up. Wanted first pick on the car here just 'cause he tipped us off, and he was acting all strange-like. Tried to strangle Higgs with a rope, can you believe it! Almost did it too. Hodges pushed him off the back of the lorry."

"You killed him, then?"

"Nah. We were only just leaving the quarry. He ran back into those tunnels there. A right nutter, he was. Didn't look none too friendly about losin' his ride."

The man crinkled his florid face thoughtfully. "I see. Well, we've enough on him to turn the game against if he decides to talk. He'll probably turn up; he'll still be wanting his money. Forget him for now. Let's take a look at this car."

The men helpfully folded back the canvas and began setting up ramps. "We had to wait for that Jones man to get it movin' for us," the one called Hodges said. "Blick there put a hand to it and couldn't pull it off, can you believe it, stuck right to the door he did. That bloke, well he does somethin' with this metal whatsit, and Blick peels right off. Then we loaded it up…"

"Hm, vintage. Well cared for, too," the man said appreciatively, as he eyed the car. "Roll it down gently. Ah… there we go. Gently, I said!" He ran a plump hand over the curve of a fender and patted the front seat. "Very nice."

"Mr. Gorringe, sir. This really has a force-field in it?" the man called Higgs asked.

"Yes." Mr. Gorringe picked up a spanner and tapped it in his hand. "I do hope that force-field machine isn't buried in it too deeply, it would be a shame to have to completely take it apart."

--


	2. Chapter 2

**15.**

"This isn't working!" Blick was saying in frustration, not for the first time. He slammed down a section of what looked like exhaust pipe except for the silver-black brush nodules that extended into it in a spiral pattern. "The only contraption that's at all like what we were told to look for is too small. It must be in multiple parts."

"Then you'll need to find them," Gorringe said. He was looking over what few scraps of paper they'd found under the seats, but none of them made any sense to him.

"What about the boot?" asked Hodges. "Something bigger might fit there. Any luck?"

Higgs looked up from where he was prying at it with a set of picks. "I can't even get the boot to open. It isn't an ordinary lock. Maybe we should just cut around it. I wish it had come with keys."

"Did you take a look through that handbag we found?"

In answer, Blick picked it up and unceremoniously dumped out the purse on a workbench, pawing through the contents. "Not much money," he noted, picking up a perfume atomizer and sniffing it curiously. "Hey, look at this," he held up a small ring of keys and a UNIT pass.

"Forget the keys. She'll have changed her locks by now anyway. Unless one of them unlocks the boot. Give me that," Gorringe said, gesturing at the pass.

Blick tried the keys on the roadster's boot as the others considered the pretty girl whose picture looked out at them from the identification. "Josephine Grant," Gorringe read. "She must've been with the old man. Works for the same outfit. Keep this, could be useful."

Hours later they still had nothing definite to show, though the little yellow roadster was definitely looking the worse for the wear, especially after Higgs had hit on the idea that something might be hidden under or inside the seats.

"This is no use. We'll have to get that inventor chap to help us," Hodges said, rubbing at a grease smear on his shirt. "He made it work before."

Higgs straightened up from where he'd been handing tools to Blick through the bottom of the cut-open boot. "I thought you were an inventor," he said.

Hodges grinned briefly. "I can make you some right dandy bombs, but not one of these."

"Well, Blick there is a bona-fide auto mechanic and he can't do it either."

"Not a force-field anyway," Blick said from where he was underneath the carriage. "But this here buggy sure has some strange things going on with it. Custom things, bits I've never even seen before." He wrenched something and there was a clunk as a piece came loose in his hand. He set a bolt aside and passed it out to them. "Like that. What the dickens is it, you think?"

They considered the smallish metal box with multiple wires coming out from it and a tube at either end. "This ain't the force-field thing, is it?"

"Naw, too small. But there's lots of stuff like that scattered around. I know how to make a car run, ask anyone, but I've don't get half what this inventor bloke is doing." He scooted back out from underneath. "The government's aliens must have been a part of it somewhere along the way. There's at least three or four big hunks of wire and stuff down here that I don't even want to touch. Look, we're gonna need him to show us. If we can't even get it out of the car, we'll never make it work."

"You think he would help us?" Higgs wondered.

"Not after we pinched his car."

"We could tell him it's for a good cause," Higgs suggested.

"Why tell him anything?" Hodges said. He looked at the little box with its wires again. "But you know, he'd help if we paid him enough, wouldn't he? Never a man been born that doesn't like the sound of good money. He can always put this old car back together, why, Blick here can even say he'll help him do it."

"Yeah, sure, I'd help," Blick nodded. He rubbed his hands with a blackened rag. "But we haven't got money. This bloke works for the government. He probably gets paid pretty good already."

Hodges spat. "Government," he muttered. "Some government. Aristos selling off the common man..."

"We do have money," Mr. Gorringe's smooth voice came from the office door, where he'd apparently been listening in. "You've forgotten the tip money."

They looked at one another. "What if that ginger chap, the Jones one, shows up to collect?" asked Higgs.

Mr. Gorringe's voice remained unruffled. "Then we'll deal with him as needed. That field device must work for us, the alien infestation of our government must be ended, and this," he waved a fat wad of notes, "is the language every man speaks."

--

The Doctor swept into Lethbridge-Stewart's office in a swirl of burgundy and black velvet. "What is this letter you've received?"

The Brigadier held up the paper he'd been looking over at his desk. "Typed on plain paper. No return address, and posted from a central location…"

"The envelope…"

"Wearing gloves." the Brigadier finished.

The Doctor made an impatient noise and pulled up a chair. "Well, they've certainly been thinking things through then. What does it say?"

"What I wondered was how they knew where to post it."

"Jo's purse was in the car, they could have lifted it from her pass," the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. "Or that ginger lot told them. It doesn't matter." He reached over and plucked it from the Brigadier's hand.

"So," he said scanning it over. "They have some sort of 'cause' that they think the future of Britain hinges on and they know the car had a force-field capability. The latter is not a surprise, the former almost disappointingly predicatable."

"And…" the Brigadier prompted.

"And they've apparently bitten off more than they can proverbially chew," he said and had to smile at that. "Bessie's got them derailed. I wonder who put up the money?"

"So. If we take them up on their offer it would have a certain advantage in that it would locate your missing vehicle."

"Yes, but promising to help a nest of crazed visionaries build a force-field generator using my own car for heavens knows what purpose is hardly an acceptable situation. For all I know they want to immobilize the Queen in a bubble."

"At least we now know they are 'crazed visionaries,' as they say, rather than a common criminal ring."

"And being visionaries they most likely have a certain anathema to anyone who can be purchased for money. They like to think all men can be bought, but are invariably disappointed when it proves true. I expect it would be best to reject this monetary offer, which should force them to up the ante."

"We could find out not only their location, but what their motives are."

"Any group bold enough to not only understand something of the nature of force-fields but to also attempt to obtain one themselves would be worth keeping tabs on."

"Agreed," the Brigadier said. He tapped the empty envelope on his blotter. "I'd certainly like to know what they were planning on doing with it."

"Very well. We'll reject this monetary offer. I'll sign the letter myself, seeing as they've addressed it to me. Hm, they'll send a taxi to pick up the reply."

"Obviously expecting a positive response."

"It shall go to them by taxi then."

--

In the small warehouse office, Mr. Gorringe looked up from the brief letter in his hands, his face hard. "Doctor Smith refuses."

"He won't help us? But that was good money we offered," Higgs said with surprise.

"Told you he wouldn't after we pinched his car," Blick muttered.

Gorringe tipped his swivel chair back and forth, considering the letter again. "We know the real reason behind the refusal."

"Yeah," Hodges said. "The aristocracy isn't about to let one of their inventor types help out the likes of us. Treat the common man like dirt."

"Do you think the aristocracy really knows what we want him for? What if the aliens hear of it?" Higgs asked.

"We can't let them stop us," Hodges said firmly.

"Yes," Gorringe agreed. "I agree. Though I don't think the aristocracy will be telling their puppet masters anything just yet. They like to think they are still in control. But if our plan is to go through, we need that device working, and soon. We'll need to force his hand."

Hodges considered. "The car and the money weren't enough. How about that girl?"

"The one from the purse?" Higgs asked. "You mean, catch her?"

"Yes," Gorringe said. "Don't you see? She was with him in the car, in his personal vehicle. They must have been going somewhere together, the two of them; some sort of working relationship, or more. A coworker at the very least." He considered a moment.

"Kidnapping's a sight up from just pinching a car," Blick ventured.

"And it'll be nothing by the time we're through," Hodges said. "Right?"

"Very well," Gorringe said. "All of you leave off on that car until you have that Doctor Smith on hand to help. For all you know you've already ruined it. No, no protests. I can tell you don't have any idea what you're even looking at. Take our car, and go set a watch for her. Outside the walls of that place. I trust you to be discrete."

"What do we do when we see her?" asked Higgs, a little nervously.

"When you see her come out, follow her. And when the opportunity presents itself, bring her back here. I'll arrange a place to keep her. Take that military pass with you, so you can be sure you have the right girl. Now go."

--

The lab was finally quiet, the Doctor finally engrossed in tinkering with a piece of his TARDIS. Seeing as he'd spent hours either fretting about the fate of his car or ranting about whether the remaining War Machines were being properly disassembled and melted down, it was a welcome change.

Jo perched on a stool across the worktable, flipping pages in the morning paper. "Oh look, Lady Chic is having a sale!"

"Hm," the Doctor replied.

"My clothes are getting just so dated. Maybe I'll pop on down during lunch, see what they have. What do you think?"

"Fetch me the that coil of wire there? The green one. Thank you."

She climbed back onto the stool and considered the paper again. "They always have the most mod things, and just the cutest shoes."

"Hm-mmmn," the Doctor said vaguely. They both looked up as Yates opened the lab door. "Yes? What can we do for you, Captain?"

Mike Yates smiled briefly, hesitant. "Oh, I was just going out, to, er, pick up something for lunch. Maybe at Poolberry's. Thought I'd see if I could get anything for you while I was at it." His words included them both, but his eyes kept flickering between the wall and Miss Grant.

"Oh, no thank you," the Doctor said, going back to his work. "Unless you want anything, Jo?"

"I shan't use you for an errand boy, but I'll come along," She jumped from the stool and scooped up her new purse from the workbench. "That's over by the Lady Chic store, and like I was just telling the Doctor, I really need some new clothes before the weather gets any colder."

The Doctor looked quizzical at this, but waved her off. "Just be sure to come right back. I'll need you this afternoon."

"Is that all right?" she asked the young Captain.

"Oh, of course! Yes, no problem at all!" Mike quickly offered her an arm, delighted to suddenly have the company of the charming Miss Grant all to himself.

--

Mike Yate's smile kept hovering around his face as they drove into town. He parked and handed her out of the car, but her eyes were already going beyond him.

"There it is, see? The sale just started this morning," she said, unconsciously pulling him along with her enthusiasm.

Mike was torn between pleasure at her enthusing with him and horror at where she was dragging him. He looked up at the wide, shining windows filled with pink-scripted signs, hugely oversized daisies and inhumanly elongated mannequins.

"What do you think? The polka-dots or the one with the candy striping?" Jo gave a little bounce, then looked at him, teasing. "Oh that's right, you military types always wear the same thing, you probably don't even give it a thought."

The Captain considered. "The Doctor doesn't use a uniform."

She giggled up at him. "Can you imagine the Brigadier trying to put him in one?"

Mike had to smile back at her, it was so contagious. He gestured to the mannequins and edged a little further out onto thin ice. "So, does he, er, like that sort of thing for your lab work dress?"

Now she looked at him like he'd lost his marbles. She rolled her eyes. "What? The Doctor?" She gave a little laugh. "Oh, he wouldn't notice if I came to work in a barrel. I just think how a girl dresses really says something about her, don't you? I just don't want to be an old frumpy fuddy-duddy."

"That," Mike said with feeling, "You most certainly aren't."

She stepped towards the door, almost pulling him in with her.

Mike considered the mini skirts, go-go boots and pastel faux-fur coats on the mannequins in the windows and gave a gulp. "Um, I'd probably just get in the way. Look, there's the tea vendor. How about I pick us up a couple sandwiches and meet you back here?"

"Oh, all right," she smiled. "I'll be out in three shakes of a lamb's tail."

He nodded and quickly crossed the street before he could dwell on that thought too deeply. He still ended up ordering three egg-salad sandwiches instead of one.

Adding a random assortment of biscuits and a boxed fruit salad for Jo, he waited impatiently while the tea vendor slowly packaged it all up then headed back across the way. There was no sign of Jo. Figuring she was still shopping and not feeling brave enough to face the racks of dresses, he leaned against the front stoop and waited.

--

Jo watched Mike cross the street, then turned and looked up at the sale items in the window one more time. A man's voice suddenly spoke low by her ear, something cold and hard pressing into her ribs. "Now, don't make any fuss. We don't want to hurt you. Just come along, little chicken. Walk nice and natural like."

Jo carefully turned and walked. The man casually-seeming put his arm around her shoulders, steering her into the alley where a car waited. Another man ambled along behind. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep the tremble from her voice. There were too many of them for her to tackle herself. Oh, where was Mike?

"We just want a little cooperation from a friend of yours. And you get to be our insurance."

"What?"

He opened the car door. "Get in."

She hesitated. The hard barrel of a gun pressed into her back.

"Don't you worry," the second man said, trying to be more friendly about it. "We don't wanna hurt you. We just need that Doctor fella to help us out, see?"

"The Doctor?" she asked, now truly bewildered, as they pushed her bodily into the back seat and slammed it on her. The car pulled out and headed into traffic.

--


	3. Chapter 3

**16.**

"There was no sign of her anywhere, I even checked that shop she liked, they said she'd never even been in. I searched up and down the entire street. She just vanished!" Yates smacked a hand into the Brigadier's desk with frustration.

The Brigadier frowned at him. "And quickly."

"Yes! She was there. If she never got into that shop, it must have been within two minutes at most, probably half that."

"No clues of any kind?" the Doctor interjected. "No sign of a struggle, strange men?"

"Of course not, or I would have said!" Yates snapped, then caught the Brigadier's eye. "Sorry. I mean no, there wasn't…sir."

The phone rang and the Brigadier picked it up. "Lethbridge-Stewart. Hm. Yes. Under the circumstances I want it opened outside the building, take it to the back lot. Yes. Bomb procedures." He hung it up.

"Bomb procedures?" the Doctor asked.

"Unmarked package left at the gate. Not making any unusual sounds, but caution seems the better approach in light of Miss Grant's recent abduction."

The Doctor was already heading out the door. "Well, let's see what it is then!"

At the back lot, the soldier in bomb-proof gear waved his hand at them from where he stood by the metal container. All clear. He reached in to lift the box out. The Brigadier gave a nod, but the Doctor had already gone ahead of them, striding up to kneel and carefully pull back the wrapping.

"What…!" he exclaimed, pulling Bessie's steering wheel from the box. He looked stricken. "They're taking her apart! Those hamfisted blaggards! They're taking my car apart!"

The Brigadier took a tag of plain paper from beneath it. "Look at this," he said, handing it to his distracted advisor. "A ransom demand. Of sorts."

The Doctor tucked the forlorn wheel carefully beneath his arm and read the tag. His eyes went cold. He looked up at the Brigadier. "I'm to help them after all?"

"Or we shan't see Miss Grant again," the Brigadier finished grimly.

--

"Here," the Doctor said, putting a small box into Alistair's hands.

The Brigadier looked at it with surprise. "It looks like a tin of throat-drops. With a gauge thingummy."

"It is a tin of throat-drops, but you won't find any drops inside. It's soldered shut anyway; happened to be the right size to rig up on short notice. That 'gauge thingummy' is a directional indicator. It will point you to where Bessie is."

"You have a homing beacon on her?"

"No, but I do have a simple TL device onboard."

"TL?"

"Temporal Locator. It maps her temporal position. Sort of a time-compass, you could say. Tells when she is."

The Brigadier considered this and just had to ask. "Why?"

The Doctor shook his head at him. "You can never assume things will be when they should be. It's rather like a boy's compass. You give it to him before he goes into the woods, not after he's lost. You could say Gallifreyan children would carry these instead."

"Ah," said the Brigadier, deciding to not inquire about it further.

"Certainly preferable to having them wander off only to be lost in some simplistic time-eddy, believe me. Our car-thieving friends most likely want me wherever Bessie is, and that," he tapped the small box in the Brigadier's hands, "will lead you to her. Unless she's caught in an unexpected time vortex, but that doesn't seem too likely in this part of London. Hopefully Jo will be there as well. Of course the signal from Bessie assumes no one else in the near vicinity also has a TL device, it isn't fine-tuned."

"A reasonable assumption, I should think."

"Yes, well." He patted his pockets, checked the small tool-kit he was taking and stuffed a wad of wiring into it. "They'll no doubt be watching to assure my being alone at first. You can set up your own surveillance and such at your leisure, once their suspicions ebb."

"Are you armed?" the Brigadier asked.

"Me? Only with these," he waggled his fingers and gathered up his cloak. "I trust you to also be subtle. No heavy artillery set up right across the street, for instance."

The Brigadier pocketed the tin. "I shan't bother to answer that." He looked at his watch. "That taxi they're sending should be outside the gate in…"

"Four-and-a-half minutes," the Doctor finished acerbically. "You forget, if anyone is properly aware of the passage of time around this place, it's me."

--

The Doctor sighed, running his hands over the rents in the yellow roadster's formerly immaculate seats. The warehouse location had been predictable, the personalities of the men involved a typical mix of bluster, misguided loyalty and proud uncertainty. They'd brought out Jo briefly, but hadn't let them speak to one another. Once the job was done, was the demand, then she would be released.

At least his assistant was unharmed. He wished he could say the same for his beloved car.

"The force-field thing is in the seats? I thought so," Higgs said at his elbow.

"What? In the seats? Have you quite lost your senses? Why would it be in the seats? No one puts a force-field generator in a car seat."

"Oh."

"I note you've been none too gentle with her, have you?"

He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Didn't know. But you know, Blick an' Hodges are right bright with cars and machines. Now that you're here, we'll get it right."

"What made you find out about it?"

"The force-field? We…" he caught a look from Hodges across the bonnet.

"Can't tell you that," Hodges put in. "But we know it can be done and this car was where it was generated from. Don't try to pretend ignorance, Doctor Smith."

"Just 'Doctor', thank you. And I wasn't." He took off his burgundy jacket and laid it aside, then set about rolling up his sleeves. "Well, let's get to work then, shall we? I'm afraid you've rather made a mess of her, so we'll have to do come restoration first."

--

The tiny windows on the warehouse had long ago faded to dark and Hodges rubbed at his eyes. "He's got a lot of energy for an old codger," he muttered to his companion.

"Cor, he works like one o' those bloomin' wind-up toys," Blick agreed in a low voice. "An' I don't know half of what I'm doing. Put this here, tighten that. You think he's bein' jake with us?"

Hodges considered their supposed black-mailee, his white hair fluffing as he pulled his head back out of the boot, pulling a long wire up from where he was feeding it through from underneath the car. "Yeah, I think so. He wants that girl, right? And he's one of those inventor types. I know about them; give 'em any project to do and they'll see it through just to see it work."

Blick raised his voice slightly. "You tired, Smith?"

The Doctor looked at them with what appeared to be surprise. "Not really. Is it late?"

Hodges pointed at a plastic clock on the wall. "See for yourself."

"Well, we've still quite a lot to do. I'll make you some tea," he said charitably, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Unless you'd rather have coffee? I seemed to notice both in the kitchen."

Higgs looked up at him from where he was filling a small tube with brown liquid, only one drop at a time as the Doctor had firmly instructed. "Coffee," he said. "Black."

Blick reached through the engine and adjusted a bolt from above and then scooted underneath on the dolly to try getting at it from below. "The tin is in the bottom cupboard," he called. "Black. No, better put in some sugar."

"Mr. Gorringe," the Doctor called towards the office. "Do you also prefer coffee?"

"Tea!" the man called back after a pause. "Can't drink that black swill. Do they have you waiting on them now, Smith?" He half-chuckled, gave a snort and went back to his papers under the glare of the small cantilevered lamp.

--

"About time," Hodges said as the Doctor finally reappeared from the kitchen, steaming drinks in hand. "I'd half a mind to come after you."

"Where would I go, down the sink-pipes? I apologize for the delay," he said smoothly, handing plastic coffee mugs around. "Deuced time finding the sugar, and the first batch was a complete loss. You have an inordinate amount of that dried creamer back there, though. Too bad no-one wanted cream."

"It was already here," Higgs said, blowing on his. "Most of it's so old, who'd want it anyway. I only use real cream."

"Hoity-toity, Higgs!" Blick said in a high voice from underneath the carriage. "I only use creeeam!"

"Hey now," Higgs said, kicking at him down on the dolly. It promptly rolled, knocking over Blick's mug.

"Hey!"

The Doctor scooped up the emptied mug. "Not a problem, old chap, let me just fetch you a new one." He went back to the kitchen.

"You know, he's really not a bad old bloke," Blick said. "Mebbe he used to be a butler."

"Would explain the fancy dress," Hodges said with a grunt, "Come here and help me lift this."

--

The clock read 3:25. In the morning.

Hodges looked around. Higgs was asleep on a ratty orange couch in the corner, holding a pair of pliers snuggled against one ear. Blick was on the car dolly underneath the carriage, but he hadn't made any sounds for a while and Hodges suspected he'd also drifted off. Gorringe had been snoring in his chair in the office for the past hour.

"It's getting late," he said. "You tired?"

"Not at all," the Doctor said, carefully twisting wires together at the workbench. "Have you any more alligator clips? Or an oscilloscope? This should be tested before being reinstalled."

"Now look here, we need to call it a night. And I can't just leave you here with no one watching."

"You can't? Why ever not? Do you think I would sabotage my own car? How about I make us some good, strong coffee?"

"You did."

"Did I?" He glanced up at him and went back to the wiring.

"Twice. That's why it's almost dawn."

"Is it really? I have so little sense of time passing," the Doctor said casually. "Well, you go ahead and sleep if you need to. Don't mind me."

Hodges stared at him a moment. "Come on, now! You're not to be fooling me. You'll skip out the minute I go under."

"And leave my car? Don't be ridiculous."

"You're an odd bird, Mr. Smith."

"Doctor."

"Oh yeah. Doctor," he yawned. "Smith. Now come on, Mr. Gorringe and them wanted you locked up at night."

"Locked up?" the Doctors brows went up.

Hodges glowered at him then fumbled in his jacket, pulling out his pistol. "Yeah."

"Now, no need to be discourteous," the Doctor said chidingly. "Put that thing away before you hurt yourself. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have more coffee? No? Oh, all right. I'll come."

--

It was a tall, heavy metal door, the sort that might normally lead to an industrial freezer.

Hodges unlocked and opened it, but no frigid air came out to greet them. The Doctor was nudged inside and the door closed behind him.

He stood in the dimness, listening to the sound of the bolt being slammed back into place and looked around.

The dormant warehouse freezer was large, a single row of lights from the high ceiling giving it a shadowy look. The coolant system had apparently been turned off for some time; the air was stuffy and musty from disuse. The whole thing smelled faintly of old cardboard and aging vegetables, but the only contents were an assorted scattering of slatted wooden palettes and crates.

"Doctor!" Jo's voice called, echoing, and then she was there, running for him from the other side of the room. She slammed into him with an enthusiastic embrace and then just held on.

"Hullo, Jo," he said with relief, smoothing her flyaway hair and then holding her out at arm's length to look her over. "You look well enough."

"I'm fine," she said. "But what about you? They said they were going to make you get that force-field running. "

"Yes …"

"But it was just beastly of them, they made me come, and then there was poor old Mike probably wondering what in the world ever happened to me, and the Brig would've been so very peeved, and he does get peeved you know, and I do hope you didn't really do it for them did you?"

"Well…"

"They're the ones who took Bessie, but you probably already knew that part, I was so worried that they might make you think something just awful had happened to me and really I've been fine, one of them isn't a bad sort, and there was the most …"

"Jo!" He put a finger to her lips, stopping her. "I'm pleased to see you too. Now let's talk about it, but away from this door?"

"Oh. Right," she said. She shrugged apologetically and took his arm to tow him across the room.

With nothing else to do, she'd creatively stacked up crates to wall off a corner, so it wouldn't seem to big and empty and cold she said. Some sturdier palettes had been pushed together to make a platform off of the concrete floor with more crates to make a seat, which she'd covered with blankets that had been left for her. They settled onto them, side by side.

"I should think your escapology skills would have made you difficult to hold onto," he said conversationally.

"I did slip out. twice in fact. But they told me, oh, never mind that..."

"Never mind?"

"Probably wasn't really true. I shouldn't have listened to them. Now, what have…"

"Told you what?" he tilted his head at her and frowned, querying. He lowered his voice. "Did they threaten you?"

She didn't meet his eyes. "They said that…that they'd kill you if I left."

"Me?"

"Yes, though I know they needed you to even make it run, right? So of course they wouldn't really. Still, didn't seem worth risking it, right?"

He gave her a small smile and patted her hand reassuringly. "Of course not. Kind of you to want me kept alive. And I suppose the accommodations are certainly roomy enough." He looked up at the ceiling beams, some 35 feet above them. "Naturally, they told us something of the same thing."

"That they'd kill you?" Jo asked, wide-eyed.

"No, that honor was reserved for you in our version," he said. "But the Brigadier has things in hand, I'm sure."

"Why those…! How dare they go around threatening people like that!" she said. "I've a mind to be quite cross."

He had to chuckle at that. "Yes, you would. But I think they're planning on doing a lot more than just threatening the likes of us. Have you seen much?"

"No. Only that they've been taking your poor old Bessie apart. I told them you wouldn't like that. One of them, Mr. Higgs, seems like a decent fellow - he's the one who usually remembers to bring me something to eat - he said it was for a good cause, and they were doing it for the good of Britain."

"Did he? I wonder what manner of good he's referring to. I've been doing a little exploring in the name of making tea, and you want to know what I found?"

"What?"

"All the ingredients one might want to construct explosives."

"You mean they're making bombs?"

"Yes. Which may explain why they're so keen on generating a small force-field. One of the drawbacks to bombing anything is the difficulty of having sufficient distance from your own explosives. They could detonate anything with impunity if they were protected themselves."

"But what do they want to blow up?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Judging by what I could see of the papers, added to their general paranoia regarding the British government and aristocracy in particular, I would suppose Parliament."

"Parliament?" Jo said. "But they can't just go blowing up Parliament!"

"Wouldn't be the first time, Jo. You're forgetting your own history. What's that day the British observe in November?"

"Oh. Guy Fawkes Day. Because he…"

"Tried to blow up Parliament with kegs of gunpowder. Thirty-six kegs, in fact."

"But he didn't really get it to blow up."

"No," the Doctor smiled. "He didn't. We'll just have to make sure history properly repeats itself then, won't we?"

--


	4. Chapter 4

**17.**

"You'll need a much stronger power source if you want this to work. I can repair it for you and configure it, but it's still insufficient for a stable generation." The Doctor looked up at them from where he was carefully fitting a small piece into place with a jewelers screwdriver.

"Does the car need to be running, then?"

"No, that's not the point - the propulsion system is entirely separate anyway. The point is my car had an additional power source jury-rigged onto her to boost it before."

"Propulsion system?" Hodges said with surprise. "On a car? Don't they have those on jets?"

The Doctor took a breath. "A system which propels may be a reaction engine, such as you would find in a jet, or it may be a simple internal combustion engine, or even a steam-boiler." He hoped he was managing to sound patient. "It moves the vehicle forward."

"Huh." Hodges scratched his stubbled chin.

"More power? A generator maybe? We have a gas one." Blick paused to stifle a yawn. It had been after eight before any of them had roused up enough to let their captives out of the musty makeshift prison. They were still wary of the Doctor but visibly relaxing as time went on. They'd even shared a small breakfast, seeing as neither Jo nor the Doctor had seemed inclined to fight them, and Jo had stopped trying to bolt since her flamboyant coworker had been brought in. As before, the Doctor made the tea and coffee, confirming for them Blick's theory that he was a retired butler or valet.

Not permitted to stay out and help with the bedraggled roadster, Jo had then been locked back up, but this time not without some apologies on the part of the captors, especially Higgs. The Doctor smiled inwardly to see how quickly she set about charming her way into their confidence. If he was any study at all, it looked like young Higgs would soon be besotted enough with her to confide something of use.

He watched as the young man predictably made an excuse to take Jo something to drink. Yes, he and his assistant could compare notes later. For now, he would play his part and see what the extent of this group's plans really were.

"A generator wouldn't produce nearly what you need. But I do have something back at my own lab that might do the trick," he offered.

"Really?" Hodges said, surprised to have him volunteer help. He looked at him suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

The Doctor looked at him and frowned. "No catch at all. You want a working field, I've agreed to help you accomplish that goal in exchange for my assistant's freedom, remember? It won't work unless there's enough power."

"What is this thing, then? A special kind of generator?" Blick asked.

"No, more akin to a specialized battery. But I would still need to be permitted to fetch it."

"Tell them to bring it to you here."

"They'd know where you were in that event," the Doctor pointed out.

"Mr. Gorringe said they already do, but they're holding off," Blick said bluntly.

So much for the Brigadier being subtle. "Of course, I should have expected. They're military you know, quite good at tracking."

"He figured you have some kind of homing device."

"You are welcome to search me, I've nothing of the sort," the Doctor said as if offended. "But this also means it wouldn't breach your security to allow me to bring in equipment."

"True," Blick nodded. He turned to his companion. "What do you think, Hodges?"

"I think they're only keeping off because we told them their Doctor and the girl were goners if they set foot here."

"I will let them know they're still to keep distance," the Doctor put in reasonably. "I'd like to see if I can get this working myself, truth be told. It's been rather intriguing. Here, if you've some paper I can write out the message. You can look it over so you needn't wonder if there's anything compromising in it."

"Well, I don't see any problem with that," Blick said. "Long as we can see what he wrote."

"Yeah, all right," Hodges agreed. He dug in his pocket and produced a screw of dirty paper, which he smoothed out against the edge of the desk and handed to the Doctor. "Here's a pen. Go ahead."

--

"What is it, Sergeant?" Lethbridge-Stewart asked as Benton rather abruptly came into his office with a hurried salute.

"Message dropped for us sir, left in an empty milk-bottle by the gate. It's from the Doctor."

"What? In a milk-bottle? Let me see that!" The Brigadier reached for the wrinkled scrap of paper and smoothed it out. He read it over, then read it again more carefully.

"He wants that big battery thing from his lab… the one the men took from the car. We're to bring it to him, but not to interfere. That's the message."

"Anything else?" Benton asked curiously. "Doesn't seem like him to be so plain about it."

"No….it doesn't…." The Brigadier frowned at it. "Let me see. Did he ever call that battery whatsit by any kind of name or number? "

"Not that I know of, sir. He just had the men heft it into the lab. It's still there by his box."

"He's given it both here, very specifically," the Brigadier put down the paper and steepled his fingers thoughtfully, then suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at the Sergeant. "Not a date… not coordinates… I've got it. Radio frequency! What are you waiting for, Sergeant? Go get that radio over there!"

"Yessir!" Benton said cheerfully.

--

Higgs looked over at where the Doctor seemed to be completely engrossed in soldering a small tangle of wires attached to a partially-assembled rectangular box at the workbench. He leaned over to his companions, gesturing them in closer. "I think we should tell him. About our mission. He's a right handy chap, and he'd be more likely to help us if he knew who the real enemy is."

"But he could be in cahoots with 'em," warned Blick. "You think he really invented this thing? He probably got it from those aristos, who got it from the aliens. You're wasting your breath."

"Or maybe he's a blue-blood himself," Hodges muttered. "All fine and dandy, he is."

"Am I?" asked the Doctor suddenly, making them jump guiltily. "Judging a man's convictions by the clothes he wears is a common mistake. I assure you I'm not the least related to any aristocracy at all." the Doctor waved a hand at him dismissively and turned back to Higgs. "I would be intrigued to know what you are willing to go to such great lengths for. Tell me more about this."

Higgs glanced at the others and seemed to make up his mind. He leaned forward. "For starters, there were all those strange lights not a month past, big ones, near where we picked up your car. And locals said there was an explosion with them. Then the military was there not lettin' anyone get close. And if that's not enough there's been plenty more, we've been tracking them."

"Fantastic. Very assiduous of you. What have you found?"

"Really! We have proof, people who saw these things themselves. We're not talking about swamp gas or weather balloons either, like the government say."

"I never thought you were."

Higgs paused to look closely at this odd white-haired man, but there was no trace of mockery; his audience seemed perfectly serious. He plunged ahead. "Well, even stranger, some time back there was some aliens making plastic things move. By themselves, like they were alive. Store mannequins coming out into the streets, shooting people dead. Dead! Real mannequins too, not people dressed up. We checked."

"Could it have been robotics?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"No, solid plastics, no robotics at all. We cut them open."

"Most thorough."

Blick nodded. "Then there was that radio tower that exploded, I've got a picture of that one," he put in.

The Doctor shook his head. "Have you? Quite alarming, I would think. And all of this hidden from the public?"

Blick nodded. "Of course! They don't want the common man to know that he's going to be in servitude to aliens. What would they do if they knew?"

"One can only wonder."

Blick nodded grimly. "They'll sell us all, and folks won't know what hit them. Not all of them are things like plastics. There were reports of strange men in space suits, but they weren't human, they had no faces, and they said…"

"No faces? Really, that's most unusual."

"…Well, we're not sure what that really meant. They didn't take the suits off, so they were hiding something. But they could kill someone just from touching them…"

Higgs interrupted seriously. "It's real. We know people died of it. "

"Where did they go? These space suited figures, that is."

The men looked at one another uncertainly. "We don't know," admitted Higgs, "but we expect the aliens are being hidden by the government. Possibly blended in with the population if they look human enough."

"All of them?" The Doctor looked very thoughtful and concerned. "I wonder where."

"Among the aristocracy," Hodges said gruffly. "In the House of Lords of course."

"There's others too, other aliens and sightings, all verified," Higgs continued, encouraged by the Doctor's apparent interest.

"And were there spacecraft of some kind?"

"There were some meteorites that weren't natural at all, they all came down at once and then disappeared. And one report said there was a thing that looked kind of like a police box out in the woods."

The Doctor's eyebrows quirked upward. "A police box?" he said. "Now someone's just playing with you."

"Really," the man said seriously. "Our informant was out hunting in those woods, swore he saw it. Said it was invisible, then he heard a strange noise and then it was there."

"What possible use would the aliens have for an invisible police box?" the Doctor asked reasonably. "I expect your informant was in the pub a bit too long that day. But with the exception of that and a living being going about without benefit of a face, I believe you."

Higgs was ready to defend and protest against disbelief and instead let out his breath with surprise. "You do?"

"Of course. Why should man be the only intelligent being on Earth? I've always thought there might possibly be alien life hidden away somewhere in Britain, under our own noses. It seems most plausible, when you think about it. And where better than among those with authority?"

"Exactly!" Higgs said. Blick and Hodges nodded with him.

Hodges looked very serious. "We already know they're in the aristocracy. They've been influencing the royal family and the House of Lords for years, and now they've truly become the power behind the throne of Britain."

"The aliens, you mean?"

"And the House of Lords," Blick said. "They've entered into agreements with the aliens. They keep technology like these force fields and weapons from the common people."

"To what purpose?" the Doctor wondered.

"Why, to enslave us!" Hodges said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The others nodded earnestly. "The government is run by the aristocracy, who are run by…?" He waved his hand in a prompt.

"The aliens," the Doctor nodded somberly.

"Right. Step by step, they will subjugate us, take away our freedoms. Step by step. We'll soon be nothing but servants to their like, with the blessing of our so-called superiors." He spat in emphasis.

Blick spat along with him in nonverbal affirmation.

"Monstrous. How will you stop them?" the Doctor asked, shaking his head.

"We'll make an example of them!" Higgs said, warming to the subject he grabbed at the Doctor's sleeve and shook it with emphasis. "And we're not the only ones. We've got others working with us too. They'll take care of collaring the Prime Minister, and we'll let him see the destruction of all he's planned. All of his aristos and aliens will go down in flames around him. The people will be free!" The young man was positively glowing with his misguided patriotism.

"We won't just sit back and let them rule our people, we'll show them that," Hodges chimed in fervently.

"Are you with us, Doctor?" Blick asked. He put out a hand.

The Doctor took it in a firm grip. "I would greatly regret seeing the British people subjugated or terrorized by anyone. I'll certainly do everything I can under the circumstances."

"Good man!" Hodges said as Blick pumped his hand.

"I knew you weren't one of their pawns," Higgs said with a relieved laugh. "And you sure aren't an alien!"

"Heaven alone knows what would happen if I were," the Doctor said. "Now, when do I get that battery from my lab?"

--

At luncheon, Jo was allowed out for a time and they assumed the Doctor would care for the coffee and tea for everyone, which he was happy to oblige, but as soon as they were done their captors apologetically locked both of them back up.

"Sorry, Doctor," Higgs said, "Mr. Gorringe doesn't think we should leave you without a guard."

The Doctor considered the freezer door and stepped through it once again with dignity. "You're leaving then?"

"We have to meet with the rest…" his voice trailed off awkwardly as Jo, passing him, took his hand.

"That's all right, we'll see you as soon as you get back?" she smiled up at him, all wide eyes and dimples.

Higgs flushed pink around his collar and his adam's apple bobbed. "Yes, Miss. I'll…we'll check on you straight away."

"Then we'll wait for you," she said softly and followed the Doctor into their prison. The door shut behind her and after a moment, it locked.

"Jo," the Doctor said.

"Well, it's true. What else can I do but wait for him?" She grinned and crossed to flump down on their makeshift crate-couch.

"You're going to have that poor lad walking right into walls," he chided gently.

"So it's working?"

"Yes, I dare say so."

"I don't know. He's rather sweet for a kidnapper, isn't he? He started to confide something in me earlier but old Gorringe interrupted. How did it go for you?"

He settled onto the crate next to hers and stretched out his long legs. "They told me pretty much everything."

"No! How did you do that? You didn't hypnotize them or something did you? That would be cheating."

"Of course not. I merely sympathized with their cause."

"And that cause is?"

"They want to eradicate Britain of aliens who are out to enslave the people."

"What aliens?"

"Well, that's where they have a hitch. I sincerely doubt the variety they are looking for even exist. They believe the government, the House of Lords and the upper classes in general are all being run by alien forces."

"Standard nutters, then. Kind of disappointing, really."

"More clever and determined than standard, seeing as they've gone this far, but I'm afraid their solution is more along the lines of something the Brigadier might do. They're certainly human themselves; they've decided the way to deal with it is to blow it up. So we were right, they do intend to plant explosives and destroy Parliament, or the House of Lords at the very least. Modern-day Guy Fawkes in the flesh."

"But, they can't do that!"

"They're certainly going to give it their best effort. What's more, the group they've gone off to meet are most certainly planning to kidnap the Prime Minister. They want him inside the force-field, to witness the explosives without being touched himself."

"The Prime Minister? But…. What can we do? We need to warn them."

"I'm hoping we have. I encoded some information in the note they sent out to UNIT, a request for the auxiliary battery from the lab. If the Brigadier was on his toes, he should have been listening in to the whole thing through Bessie's radio. I had it out on the workbench and set to transmit."

--

"There!" the Doctor said, "See? It rolls easily enough."

Blick, Hodges and Higgs stood around the heavy battery, now mounted on a reinforced teacart, all blowing on the mugs of coffee the Doctor had made for them at tea. They'd been dubious when they'd seen how large and heavy it was, though the soldiers who'd brought it to the warehouse door hadn't caused any trouble and had quickly withdrawn. At first Mr. Gorringe had watched from his office door rather sourly, but now seemed intrigued along with the rest.

"We'll never be able to carry that in to the aristos," were Blick's first words.

"It's mounted on wheels," the Doctor said mildly. "Simply pull it with you."

"You had it in a car," Hodges pointed out."We need to be on foot."

"Were you expecting to just drive my car right into the building? Besides, the power source is the largest and heaviest part. I should be able to rig a portable field for you, perhaps not something you could just carry along in your pocket, but significantly more compact than a roadster. Rigged to this cart, you should be able to go down any hallway with it. Cover it with a tablecloth and you may even pass for caterers."

"Hey, that's a good idea!" Higgs said. "We should've had you in with us sooner."

"Perhaps," Gorringe put in. "I want it tested as soon as possible. We're running out of time. When can you have this 'portable field' ready, Doctor Smith? And how many people will it protect?"

The Doctor looked over at the florid man where he leaned against the office door. "I expect half a dozen, provided they aren't too hefty in their proportions," he looked back at the converted teacart. "And we could probably rig something up for testing within an hour or two."

"Perfect."

--

"Now to test it!"

The Doctor made his fellow mechanics jump slightly. He'd been closely working on the tiny circuits of the force-field generator for the past hour with his jewelers glass, leaving them to their own devices. Blick was sitting in one of Bessie's ruined seats, dozing. Hodges was engrossed in a book on the history of Guy Fawkes and Higgs had wandered off towards the freezer, mumbling something about taking Miss Grant some tea.

"It's ready?" Hodges asked, immediately setting aside his book.

"In good time, we've still daylight," Gorringe said, emerging from his office once again. "You'll help us with it, of course?"

"Of course," the Doctor said. He finished wrapping the wiring that connected the smaller device to the larger battery on the teacart. "What did you have in mind?"

"This," said Gorringe in his smooth voice, and held up a handful of dynamite sticks. "But not indoors, naturally. There's a quarry nearby. We'll place someone inside the force-field's area and see if it adequately protects them."

"Uh," Higgs said nervously. "Are you sure you want to…"

"Don't worry, it won't be one of us," Gorringe continued. "I would never risk any common man. I realize my men trust you, Doctor Smith, and I assure you we are most grateful for all the work you've done. But just to ensure you're not really just some very clever aristocrat with alien sympathies…" He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket. "We'll take that girl along."


	5. Chapter 5

**18.**

"That strapped down?" Blick sounded gruff as he got into the lorry cab, a rather beaten-up windowless vehicle with the remains of a bread company's logo on the side.

"Tight as a drum," Hodges said, giving one of the straps that held the converted tea-cart a final tug and climbing down. "Bring 'em over!"

Mr. Gorringe, holding a pistol, watched closely as Higgs and Hodges brought the Doctor and Jo out of their confinement, already handcuffed together.

They obligingly climbed up into the back of the low delivery truck and settled onto the back bench. Hodges took an additional cuff and snapped one end onto Jo's other wrist, the other to the metal strut of the truck canopy. He climbed back out, the back closed and the truck started up.

The Doctor considered the metal binding their wrists. "I surmise they've given up on mere ropes for you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said. "Just don't forget you're attached to me and go jumping out the back."

He considered the bundled, strapped tea-cart as they bounced out onto the roadway. She followed his gaze. "It will work, won't it?"

"Oh yes. I'm more concerned about the Brigadier."

"The Brigadier?"

--

"I know he doesn't want anyone to interfere, but they're risking Miss Grant's life," the Brigadier said firmly. "Is that radio still working?"

"Yessir," Benton said, bending his head close to the speaker. "But it sounds like they're leaving."

"How much noninterference do you think he meant?" Captain Yates paced across the room unhappily.

"We have a man following them," Lethbridge-Stewart said. "And I'm not convinced any contraption of the Doctor's is going to work, at least on the first try. Not enough to chance a young woman's life. I'm going to that quarry."

"Which quarry?" Benton asked.

"I don't know yet, demmit. But how many can there be? I want my jeep ready. I want a full backup, armed."

"Yessir!" Benton sketched a salute and headed for the door, then paused. "Though… your jeep is still in the shop…sir."

The Brigadier scowled slightly. "Blast, I'd forgotten. Whatever's available then. See, Yates, proof of why I can't just leave everything up to the Doctor."

"I missed this one. What happened?"

"The Doc used the Brigadier's new jeep as a battering ram," Benton said with a twinkle of delight to Yates, quickly hidden as the Brigadier turned back to him.

"Yes," he said shortly. "Off with you, Sergeant. Yates. I'm leaving you in charge here."

"Request to accompany you, sir," Yates protested. "I mean, I feel responsible that she's even with them, sir," he fumbled. "I'd like to be able to make it up somehow."

The Brigadier considered the young Captain for a long moment, then granted him a single curt nod. "Very well."

--

The quarry was a small one and dormant, the cold breeze rippling the half-dead wild grasses and weeds that had crept in to reclaim empty pits and gravel piles. The lorry lurched to a stop and the back doors were swung open.

"Now to see what sort of demonstration we'll have," Mr. Gorringe told them all by way of greeting. "Get that set up over there, by that pit," he pointed, then leaving the men to their work, he turned to his captives. "I'm afraid you'll just have to wait here. We've some explosives to lay first, of course."

"Of course," the Doctor nodded politely. "What do you say, Jo? Shall we just wait here?"

"I suppose so. I'm rather attached to this old lorry, after all."

Gorringe gave a snort and turned to help the others lift the tea-cart out.

The cold breeze swirled into the open lorry as they watched the men going back and forth, laying the wires for the dynamite that they'd placed in a wide circle around the tea-cart. Jo shivered and huddled into the Doctor for warmth. "Any sign of them?"

"Not from what I can see. Not that I can see much. They're probably… ah. There, up by that dead ash tree."

Jo squinted. "I can't see them."

"They've ducked back down. Let's hope they've the good sense to keep their distance."

"You think they will?"

"Once they see you in handcuffs? No."

"I could get out of them," she said helpfully, wiggling her wrists.

He smiled down at her fondly. "Yes, you probably could! But I think old Gorringe might not like it. Speaking of which…it looks like they've set up their test run."

--

Gorringe stood by the Doctor, still puffing slightly from the effort of walking back and forth in the quarry. "Now we'll know if it does what you say it will, or if it doesn't, Doctor Smith."

"Just 'Doctor' thank you."

Gorringe grunted. "Uppity chap, aren't you? I've half a mind to chain you out there as well, but we need you to fix it if it doesn't work. I know my men have taken a liking to you, but I warn you, I'm still watching." He gave the Doctor what he supposed was an intimidating look.

"Yes, so I see," the Doctor said. He tried to ignore his own handcuff, the other end of which now went to Gorringe's pudgy wrist. "Just be sure they wait for my signal before they set off those explosives. We need to be certain the dome is completely in place." He looked across the dry, grey gravel to where Jo stood, now cuffed to the converted tea-cart, her hair blowing in the breeze as she watched him for a signal to flip her lever on the battery. She looked very small, very vulnerable and very alone. He was grateful it was only a relatively simple force-field dome being tested, he would have hated this to have happened with a variable frequency force-wall or something more complex.

"Ready!" Hodges called from where he hunched over a detonator.

"Ready!" Blick called from the second one. Higgs had a camera, ready to take pictures of the results.

"Desist!" a man's voice shouted from the quarry's edge. All heads turned. The man was on the ridge, in a khaki uniform. Another man came up behind and said something to him, gesturing.

Gorringe response was to snatch his gun from his belt and raise it to shoot, though he found himself hampered by having cuffed himself to the taller man beside him.

The Doctor knocked his arm back down. "Don't shoot at them, you fool. There's probably a full backup surrounding this quarry, most likely armed. Let me talk to them!"

"They stay back," Gorringe said, his voice angry and cold, "Or we kill the girl."

"Then let me go to them," the Doctor replied with annoyance. He gave a light tug on their shared cuff. "Obviously you can come along, if you like. I didn't know they would be here."

Gorringe allowed himself to be drawn forward two steps then paused. "What are you planning on telling them?"

"To leave you alone and not interfere," the Doctor replied. "Though they'll only withdraw if you can grant assurance of our safety, of course, and only if I tell them to."

"Gorringe!" Hodges called. "What do we do?"

Gorringe turned to them. "Hold off. We're going over there. But if they take me out, you hit those detonators!"

"But, the girl…" Higgs protested.

"You heard me," Gorringe snapped. "Now come along." He gave an unnecessary jerk on the cuff. The Doctor ignored it, already pacing smoothly beside him so that he soon had to stretch his legs a little to keep up.

"Brigadier!" the Doctor hailed as they came to the bottom of the ridge. "I know you're up there. We need a parlay of sorts."

Lethbridge-Stewart's head and shoulders came into view above them. "We're coming down, but we're keeping you covered."

"Very kind of you, thank you," the Doctor replied. "Though I do need you to keep it peaceful; my friend here is rather touchy about explosives."

--

"Who's the bloke with him? Is he the ringleader?" Benton wondered as they made their way down the slope to the quarry floor.

"He's handcuffed to him," Yates pointed out. "You don't think it's coerced?"

The Sergeant gave a smile at that. "I'd say that puts the other man in trouble, not the Doctor. I wouldn't want to be cuffed to the likes of him, not if he was my enemy."

The Brigadier's mustache twitched. "A good point. I think he's up to something."

--

The Doctor considered them as they slid down the last bit of graveled slope. "I know you got my note as you sent the battery. Didn't I also ask you not to interfere? Mr. Gorringe, didn't my note say not to interfere?"

Gorringe, who'd been concentrating on looking intimidating, blinked at him. "Uh, yes."

"You read it, I presume, before you sent it off? Of course you did. And yet here I find you doing precisely that."

The Brigadier frowned at him. "You're risking that young woman's life, Doctor. I can't permit it."

"She's perfectly safe," he said dismissively. "But you could be endangering your men. There are live charges set for the field testing."

"Now look here, Doctor…"

"And this is none of your business," Gorringe put in loudly. "I'm the one you need to be talking to. We have a mission, and you'll thank us when you are freed from your oppressors."

"Oppressors?" Yates wondered, subsiding at a look from the Brigadier.

Lethbridge-Stewart faced the red-faced man with a perfectly serious face. "Very well, sir. My men will not interfere with your 'field testing,' as the Doctor put it. But it is only because I know the Doctor to be a trustworthy man who would never stoop to the lower activities of your cohorts here unless he had a damn good reason."

Gorringe looked at the elegant man to his left. "You're with us?"

"I am," he asserted mildly.

He looked back at the Brigadier. "But how do I know you and your men won't try something anyway? What's that girl to you?"

"I give you my word," the Brigadier said with dignity.

"Not good enough. You're a part of the government. Just to be sure there's no funny stuff, I want one of you over there, with her." Gorringe pulled his pistol from its holster again.

There was a movement beside him and suddenly he found himself with his left arm painfully twisted up behind him, the handcuff adding leverage.

"I said not to shoot at them," the Doctor told him calmly, giving the arm an emphasizing nudge.

"Ow," Gorringe complained. "All right!"

"See?" Benton whispered to Yates.

"Put the gun away."

Gorringe scowled and slid the gun back into its holster. The Doctor released his arm, which he rubbed at unhappily. "You could've broken it," he accused.

"And you might have done far more damage that that," his supposed-captive rebuked. He turned to the UNIT men, who were busy pretending none of it had happened. "I'm sure you don't need to use threats on these men. They're soldiers, honorable and used to danger. One of them would most likely volunteer…if you asked nicely."

They looked at one another. The Brigadier and Yates both drew breath, though what they were going to say was cut off by the tall Sergeant who almost shyly stepped forward. "I will."

--

"Hello, Miss," Sergeant Benton said as he reached Jo. He touched his beret politely. "Care for a little company?"

"What are you doing coming out here?" Jo said. "There's explosives…"

"It's all right. The Doc said that force-field tea-cart gadget of his will keep it safe." He looked down at her wrist, chained as it was to the cart. "Sorry to see they cuffed you. Did you see the trick the Doctor did with his, twisting that man 'round like that?" He briefly smiled, then considered it again. "It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"It's all right," she said. "I could probably get out of them if I really needed to, but honestly I think I'm safer here. They didn't make you come out here, did they?"

"I volunteered," he said. "They been treating you all right, Miss?"

"Well enough," she said. She looked down and worried at the handcuff then looked back up at him with her big eyes. "They haven't really hurt me. I admit I was a bit frightened at first but since the Doctor's been there I've been all right."

"Well, that's a relief to know. We were fair worried about you back at HQ."

"You think we would be used to things like this by now," she smiled, then suddenly gave him a brief one-armed embrace. "Thank you for being here with me."

"Glad to be of service, Miss."

She looked up. "You know, I don't really know how tall this thing will be," she admitted. "We better get down."

The Sergeant promptly knelt down on the gravel as she hunkered by the tea-cart. "What would happen if part of us got outside it?" he wondered, looking up.

"I don't know that either, but I'd rather not find out it was something nasty," Jo said, watching for the Doctor's signal. Benton's open, honest face wore a bravely nervous expression made her suddenly want to reassure him. She patted one of his big hands with her small one.

In the distance, the Doctor waved his free hand at her and gave an emphatic nod.

She flipped the lever on the battery and with a sizzling whumping noise, a thin half-bubble of shimmering light formed around them. Outside they could still see the quarry, only slightly distorted as if they were near the surface of a fishbowl.

Benton pulled his beret off and twisted it in his hands as he looked around, the static making the stray hairs on his head lift and float. The bubble was tall enough he cautiously stood. Jo reached out to him and he awkwardly let her shelter under his arm as they waited. They didn't have to wait long.

All around them, the ground erupted into dust and rock as the dynamite detonated. The tea-cart rocked and jumped, and Jo gave an uncertain little squeal, grabbing onto Benton's khaki jacket. He braced both her and the cart, to keep them from tipping. Both of them winced as chunks of rock and gravel hurtled at them, only to bounce off the field. Clouds of dust washed around and over them, gravel bits that had been blown upward descended in a rain of debris that slid down the sides.

Slowly, the clouds settled. Untouched, they looked out at the new roughly hewn moat that had been blown around them in the quarry flooring. Far off, they could see the Doctor and the others emerging from various sheltering boulders, Higgs clicking away with his camera over at the lorry.

"That was something!" Jo said. She reached over and flipped off the switch.

"I'll have to buy the Doctor a drink for that one," Benton agreed with feeling. "Maybe several."

--

Across the quarry, the Brigadier hadn't moved, his hands still clasped firmly behind his back, but Yates looked like he was very much in need of a drink. "Thank God, they're all right," the young Captain muttered.

"Of course they are," the Doctor said.

"Completely impervious!" Gorringe was saying, triumph in his voice. "Doctor, you're a genius. Nothing can stop us now." He turned to the military men. "You will thank us for what we're doing."

"He keeps saying that," Yates observed quietly. "Somehow I doubt it."

They watched as Higgs brought the lorry around the perimeter, picking up the other men along the way. They all picked their way through the newly blown 'moat' to the tea-cart where a sternly protective Benton supervised their bringing Jo and the cart back before doffing his cap to her and reluctantly rejoining his superiors.

The lorry came to where they still stood, squeaking to a stop before them. "Mr. Gorringe?" Hodges asked from the driver's seat. "What's with the military men? Will they leave us alone?"

"They better," Gorringe said. "We still have their friends, after all. Now you remember that promise of yours," he shook his free hand at them admonishingly. "You keep your distance. Your man here knows what we're doing, and he's helping us, see?"

They all looked at the Doctor. He met the Brigadier's eyes and his eyebrows said something Alistair couldn't decipher. "We'll leave you be, as long as no one is hurt," the Brigadier stated, watching his advisor's face for unspoken confirmation that this was the right course of action.

"Let them carry on with it," the Doctor said firmly, with a nod. "All of it." He looked like he would have said more, but the proximity of members of the radical group in question prevented it. He took a breath, let it out and gave them a resigned look. "Go on now and don't worry about us. They're perfect gentlemen."

"Gentlemen with handcuffs and bombs," muttered Yates.

They watched stonily as their scientific advisor allowed himself to be cuffed to Jo again. He handed his young assistant into the back of the lorry then followed her in. One man joined them, and the last man swung the doors shut and backed toward the cab, a gun ready in his hand. The UNIT men didn't move.

"Let them just carry on with it? With bombing Parliament?" the Brigadier frowned as they watched the battered bread lorry trundle back out of the quarry. "What the devil can he be up to?"

"You don't think he's really gone in with them, do you?" Yates wondered reluctantly. "Though I would think he'd be on the other side of that scenario, on the alien's side, I mean."

"Of course not," the Brigadier snorted.

"So now what do we do?" the Captain asked, obviously frustrated.

"I'm assigning you to deal with this second branch of the group. We know they exist, and that they're planning on kidnapping the Prime Minister. That's a start."

"Yes?"

"The Doctor apparently wants them to be able to really carry off a kidnapping, or at least to carry off someone they think is their target. I need you to arrange with the Prime Minister's staff. I expect they have a double for the Prime Minister who can play the part of kidnapee. Of course, UNIT men will also need to replace part of that staff temporarily, to be sure no one is hurt and to keep the kidnappers under surveillance."

Yates nodded. "Yessir. And Parliament?"

"We're already in some communication with them. I may not be sure what the Doctor is doing, but I'm not willing to just stand by and leave everything to chance."

--


	6. Chapter 6

**19.**

"Does that battery have enough juice in it for another round?" Blick asked as he swung open the rear door. The colder air of the warehouse swirled into the stuffiness of their closed compartment.

"Let me check the levels first, just to be sure. It should be fine," the Doctor said. He got to his feet and he and Higgs both handed Jo down from the lorry, Higgs because he insisted, the Doctor because aside from courtesy he was still cuffed to her.

They'd ridden all the way back with the Doctor as a silent observer; young Higgs had blushingly sat beside them and talked with Jo about their 'grand mission' to free Britain and to put an end to all aliens who would dare to camouflage themselves among the human race, as if by his many words he would inflame in her the same single-minded pursuit of the goal. As chatty as Jo normally could be, even she was a little overwhelmed by his fanatic fervor; she'd spent most of the ride giving short, encouraging affirmations just to keep him going to pass the time. It was a relief when they finally reached the warehouse again.

"That battery better be fine," Gorringe said as he climbed out of the cab. "You watch him, Blick. Double-check his readings on it. Hodges! You start loading up those explosives."

"Right away. They got that Prime Minister bloke, then?"

"I'm calling now. They should have him by tomorrow at latest." He disappeared into his office.

The Doctor considered the handcuff he still shared with his assistant, then towed Jo over to the workbench to fetch the battery meter. "How are you going to get them all set without anyone noticing?" he asked conversationally. "Pardon me, Jo. This way." She followed him back to where they were lifting the converted tea-cart from the lorry's bed, bending to try to match his movements as he set up the meter.

"Oh, we have men ready to place them," Blick answered confidently. "We even have three among the staff there. We'll all be a part of it, and all our best men get to be in the force-field with the Prime Minister, it's going to be absolutely momentous."

"I wish I could see it." He tightened a wire-nut, trying to not bang into Jo's wrist as he did so then looked up at Blick, raising their shared wrists for consideration. "Pardon me, but can we get these blasted cuffs off? If I need to carry out any finer work, this is going to be difficult."

Before Blick could even reply, Higgs was there. He unlocked the cuff from the Doctor's wrist and then snapped it onto his own. "Sorry," he said to Jo. "I'm not supposed to just leave you loose."

"Can we stay and watch? I'm so tired of that old freezer room," Jo said, looking him right in the eyes.

The man looked mesmerized. "Sure," he said. "Anything you want."

The Doctor and Blick looked at one another. Blick shrugged and turned the battery cart towards the meter. "Just keep her out of the way. Oi, that's a strong reading! Is that right?"

"Yes," the Doctor said. "Exactly where it should be. Plenty for the field to regenerate, multiple times if you need it to. So, can my assistant and I help with these explosives or anything else? I'm a dab hand with chemicals."

"I bet you are!" Blick said. "Higgs! Go ask Gorringe if he wants them along."

Higgs smiled and took Jo's cuffed hand in his nervously. "You don't mind walking with me, do you?"

"Oh no," she said, as cheerily as if she had a choice in the matter. "Let's go see Mr. Gorringe."

"Absolutely not," Gorringe said up ahead of them. "I heard. They stay here. Higgs, I can see that pretty girl has you completely under her thumb. And Blick, you're too easily impressed by that inventor. As soon as he's done checking it over, I want them both locked back up, then you help load up those explosives. We leave tonight, reconnaissance with the others before dawn. Our own people only. Understood?"

"Understood," Blick said gruffly.

"Sorry," Higgs said unhappily.

"I'll be done momentarily," the Doctor put in. "Where did I put that probe? Oh yes," he leaned into Bessie's dilapidated carriage and rummaged a moment, then brought out a thin metal rod. "I just need to insert this into the back of the main force-field control. Just a moment. Now, Mr. Blick. You watch that meter and tell me if it changes."

He rapidly twiddled something at the back of the device, while Blick watched the needle on the meter. "Nothing. Nothing. Full power! Still full... still full…."

"Good," the Doctor said, pulling the rod back out. "Thank you. It appears to be ready to go. Mr. Higgs? I assume you will escort us to our guest chambers now?"

"Uh, oh yes!" Higgs said, belatedly, looking down at Jo. "Come along, this way. Please."

--

"Home, sweet home," Jo said as the freezer door opened before her, the musty smell of old vegetables and cardboard greeting them once again. "I'm almost getting used to this place."

Higgs saw them both through the door apologetically, turned to go, then suddenly dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a fat wad of something paper.

"Here, take this! It's yours, really. You earned it. Gorringe did offer to pay you first, you know. It's honest money, not stolen. We're not criminals, we just want to free the common man. Butlers like you earn their bread the same as anyone." He thrust the paper wad at the Doctor.

He pushed it back at him. "What? I can't take this from you."

But the young man would not be dissuaded. He stuffed the roll of pound-notes into the Doctor's pocket and slipped out the door, slamming it behind him. The bolt went home and they were once again left in the mustiness of the dim freezer room.

"Nice to know if you ever needed to you could find work as a butler," Jo said. She gave a little wave of her hand as she headed for the crates in the corner. "Bring me my mink and a champagne, Jeeves. Oh wait, all we have is a blanket and leftover tea. Good enough." She sat on a crate and kicked her feet reflectively. "Too bad about old Higgs though, isn't it? He seems a good egg."

"A little cracked perhaps, but good," the Doctor agreed, trailing after her. "Inasmuch as paranoid fanatics go, I suppose he's been relatively courteous."

"So now what do we do?"

He looked around the dim room. "We wait and hope someone will eventually find us."

"Do you think anyone will?"

"If the Brigadier does his part. In the meantime you should get some sleep; it looks like it's going to be a long night. I'll keep watch. "

--

The morning sky was still cool with the nip of early autumn, and Sergeant Benton rubbed his hands together to warm them for a moment before going back to carefully picking the lock on the warehouse office door. As far as they knew, all of the men involved in this unusual group were accounted for and being followed, but they didn't know if the Doctor and Jo were in the back of that lorry again or if they'd been left behind.

The lock gave a satisfactory click and the knob turned under his hand. The door nudged open, but no alarms or trip-wires could be seen. Nodding to the two men with him to keep watch, he looked down at what appeared to be a tin of throat-drops with a little wavering needle mounted on the lid. It pointed into the main warehouse.

In the warehouse proper, he paused by the familiar yellow roadster.

"Oo, poor old Doc must be beside himself on that one," he said to himself, wincing over the disassembly and the torn seats. The needle pointed towards the back of the building, beyond the car. He followed it until he found himself facing a large metal door, quite firmly bolted shut.

He knocked on it. "Hello! Doctor? Miss Grant?" He pulled out his lock-picks and set about working on the padlock that held the bolt-handle down, happy to hear a muffled returning knock and the faint sound of a woman's voice, a man's returning a comment to her.

"Well," he told the padlock, "Sounds like we've got the right place."

--

"What is that?" Jo asked, looking curiously at what appeared to be a tin of throat-drops the Sergeant was aiming at them.

"It's a… well, I don't remember what it is. It points to that whatsit that must be in the Doc's pocket," Benton said cheerfully. "Led us right to you."

"Bessie's temporal-location device. Yes. I pocketed it when we got back from the quarry. And we're grateful, I assure you Sergeant," the Doctor said. He scooped an arm around Jo to propel her out the door. "But right now we need to get an alert out to the Brigadier. The men who imprisoned us were meeting with the rest of their group at dawn and most likely are already bound for Parliament."

"Parliament?" Benton asked as they went through the assembly area. "We knew something about it. Yates is overseeing the Prime Minister's kidnapping. I mean, not the real one, of course, he's a look-alike. Here, we've a radio just outside in the jeep. The lot that had you are still up to no good, I warrant?"

"You could say so. They're still intending to blow up the House of Lords." He followed them out to the waiting transport.

"Will they, you think?" Benton asked as they reached the jeep.

"Will they what?"

"Blow it up!"

"Oh, no. I should think not. But it would be best to have the militia on hand to gather them up afterwards. Here, give me that. Greyhound!" he said into the radio com. "Greyhound, this is the Doctor."

--

The Brigadier stood, fists on his hips, and considered the men who were splayed on the floor in the central aisle of the House of Lords, a good number of UNIT and security forces gathered curiously with him.

The fanatical trespassers and their supposed hostage lay very, very flat and moaned unhappily within the shimmering circle that surrounded their tipped over tea-cart.

The Lords and dignitaries, what real ones there had been that morning, had all been escorted out once the men had made their strange proclamations, flipped their switch and dramatically flattened themselves. It had been a morning to remember.

In truth, the Brigadier was happy to leave them laying there as long as possible, if it were not for the comfort of the red herring among them, the look-alike man hired to play the part of the Prime Minister for the kidnapping. He had to admit it had been handy, flushing out the rest of this fanatical fringe group first. The remaining men were already in custody, locked in the waiting paddy wagons.

"It's the same machine from the quarry. What do you think he did to it?" Captain Yates wondered at his shoulder. "It's like he threw it into reverse, but he's not even here."

The Brigadier looked at him and shook his head. "Knowing him, the explanation probably wouldn't make any sense to us anyway. Radio the Doctor. I want to know what he knows about failed explosives, but first and foremost we need to know how to unstick these chaps. "

--

Benton set the jeep's radio com aside. "They didn't explode?" he asked.

"Of course not," said the Doctor.

"But they did!" Jo exclaimed. "They did in that quarry. It was terrifying. Why didn't they work then?"

"Because they don't have their explosives with them. The ingredients for Hodges and his bomb-making are still here, in the kitchen in fact."

"The kitchen?"

"I wouldn't make any tea in there just now, and you certainly don't want to light a pipe. I traded their potassium nitrate for a mix of salt and sugar, swapped a bit of powdered tea and creamer, even found a use for the napkins and old coffee-grounds. "

"But the dynamite!"

He put his hands in his pockets and grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "Mere sticks of automotive putty, I assure you. The fuses would give a bit of sizzle, that's all."

"But I thought you were locked up when you weren't working for them," Benton said.

"Volunteer to make tea, a bit of sleight of hand, some time underneath a car. Quite simple, really. I made their tea the entire time."

"No wonder they thought you were a butler!" Jo giggled.

"Have you the audacity to giggle at me, Miss Grant?" the Doctor asked in a pompous voice. "I'm surprised they drank the coffee though, must have been no discerning palates among them. I never could quite get it right."

"I can show you how," Benton said.

The radio sputtered. "Greyhound to Track 2," came the Brigadier's voice.

"Track 2 here," Benton said, picking up the com. "We've some news about those bombs now, sir. They're duds, all of 'em. They were, er, doctored."

"I see," the Brigadier sounded slightly amused. "To confirm, they aren't explosive?"

"They're perfectly safe though I wouldn't eat them if I were you," the Doctor put in.

"Confirmed, no ability to detonate," Benton said. "He says not to eat them. Over."

"What? Oh never mind. Greyhound out."

--


	7. Chapter 7

**20.**

The Brigadier leaned back against the battery-laden tea-cart that had been brought back to the Doctor's lab at HQ.

"…So, they'd meant to run their explosives into the House of Lords in November, on Guy Fawkes Day for the publicity of it, but after they got ahold of that car and conscripted the Doctor into it they had to move it up."

"I wonder if that was why old Gorringe was so crabby," Jo wondered. "Too bad about that boy, poor Higgs."

"Too bad? He knew what he was doing," the Doctor said without lifting his head from the microscope he was peering into. "You're too soft-hearted sometimes, Jo. Hand me that other slide, will you?"

"What's on these?" she asked as she passed it to him.

"I'm testing a new motor oil. It's an idea I had while we were waiting in that blamed freezer for the Sergeant to get around to releasing us."

"A motor oil?" The Brigadier made a snorting noise in his mustache.

"If I can analyze the mixture properly I could moderate the viscosity at much higher temperatures."

"And this force-field thing?" the Brigadier asked.

"What about it?"

"Don't you want to tell us how you reversed it?

"No. Go away. I'm trying to fix my car!"

--

Some time later he was poking a probe at some obscure customized part from the roadster and checking the resulting patterns on the lab oscilloscope when the phone rang beside him. He picked it up. "What?"

"Doctor," the Brigadier's voice said. "Glad you're there."

"Where the devil did you think I'd be?"

The Brigadier ignored the gibe. "Look, I need you to write out what you put in those fake bombs. The militia's teams are going to be asking, they're having to field the press. Just list it out and send it up to my office."

"Oh, all right," the Doctor said. He hung up the phone, still considering the car-part on the work table. Reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper, instead he pulled out the forgotten wad of cash. He looked at it blankly for a moment, then handed it over to his assistant.

"What's this?" Jo asked with surprise.

"Oh, remember? One of those fellows seemed determined to give me money. I've really no use for it, take it, would you? Go…oh, I don't know. Buy something with it." He found another piece of paper and patted his pocket for a pen.

She leafed through the notes. "Are you sure? Why, this is a lot, Doctor." She looked up at him, half-expecting it to be taken back. "This is easily enough for something, well, very nice."

"So go get something nice," he said absently, finally locating a pen among the scattered parts and scribbling on a piece of paper.

"Maybe I'll use just part of it? A new outfit? From Lady Chic's?" she said, still not quite believing it.

He waved his hand at her, "Certainly. Whatever. Just take the blamed stuff. Now go on. I have work to do."

--

"So, all of the parts were delivered with it? Nothing forgotten?" Yates asked vaguely from where he was signing off a report for the Prime Minister's staff.

"Have you seen her? I swear there wasn't a so much as a gasket or washer that they didn't get their grubby hands on. That deuced so-called mechanic of theirs even ripped out her trans-spatial vectric axiometer, and it took me weeks to get that to work right in the first place…he'd bent all the wires and was using it to hold pencils; pencils, can you believe it. On his workbench!"

The Brigadier sighed. He'd been listening to this ever since the Doctor had gotten back, yet again, from UNIT's mechanic's shed where the yellow car and boxes of its parts had been delivered earlier in the day.

"I'll have to replace some of her, and they cut a hole right through the bottom of her boot. Though I admit it does give me a chance to improve on her fuel usage it's still going to take me a good month to have her anything like her old self again…"

"Believe me, all of us want nothing more than to see that car properly up and running again," the Brigadier interrupted with feeling, trying to waylay yet another rant about the yellow roadster and the fate of its assorted pieces. "What can I do to help you with it?"

"I'll need your approval on the orders to the Custom Supply, of course."

"Of course. Whatever you want. I should think sparing the House of Lords should be worthy of a bonus, should accounting balk. Just write it up and I'll sign it, assuming you aren't going to be installing something Geneva would consider internationally incidental."

"Perhaps. What would be considered incidental, in that sense?"

The Brigadier blinked at him. "Perhaps? I'm talking things like radioactivity-producing nuclear technology."

"Oh, hm. No, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" Yates looked at him, disbelieving.

The Doctor leaned over and picked up the Brigadier's phone, punching in the number for the lab. There was no answer.

He hung it back up impatiently. "Isn't Jo back yet?"

"Where did she go?" the Brigadier asked. "I'd expect you wouldn't want her wandering off alone after what just happened." Yates nodded and got to his feet, as if he would go find her.

The Doctor waved him back down. "There's no one looking to snatch her now," he pointed out.

"Still…"

There was a knock at the door. "Doctor? Just wanted to let you know I'm back," Jo's voice came.

"Come in, Miss Grant," the Brigadier said with relief.

She came in, dressed in a soft white and pink dotted top and a short grey-pink striped skirt with new matching boots. She twirled around in it before the bemused men and put her hands to her hips. "How do you like it?"

"New outfit?" the Brigadier observed after a moment; being a married man he had some idea what to say when this sort of thing unexpectedly happened.

"It's….very nice…" Yates said, sounding a bit strangled.

"The Doctor bought it for me," she grinned happily. "Isn't it just too mod? Thank you, Doctor!" She came up behind his chair and gave him a brief embrace about the shoulders before heading back to the door. "I'll be in the lab." She bounced out, closing it behind her.

There was a pause.

"Um, I'm on duty soon. I'll just be…going…," Yates said. He stood, gave the Brigadier a brief salute and left.

The Brigadier looked at the Doctor strangely. He was riffling through the telephone directory. "Doctor."

He paused at a page and ran his finger down it. "Yes?"

"You bought her clothing?"

He glanced up, surprised. "What? No, I gave her those notes those men pushed off on me and told her to use them up, which she apparently did. I say, Brigadier, look at this! Customized leather work, including restoration on vintage upholstery. How do you suppose Bessie might look with new leather seats?"

--


End file.
